


Initial Interactions

by Inkfamy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Pre-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkfamy/pseuds/Inkfamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young Hot Rod is enamored with the writings of a certain Tarnian miner and driven to seek change. Prompt fic, pre-war IDW.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Initial Interactions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teztrash (teztime)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teztime/gifts).



> Fic prompt for [teztrash](http://archiveofourown.org/users/teza/pseuds/teztrash) over on tumblr! - "Give me something on pre-war Hot Rod and his first interactions with the Decepticons. :D"
> 
> This ended up being pre-Autocracy, but I hope it still works for anyone who hasn't read the comics!

The data file had been in circulation for a while now. It was almost becoming gospel. _After the Ark: Nominus Prime and the Illusion of Progress_  was the subject of many a whispered conversation between the dissatisfied mechs of Nyon. Late-night meetings were held in quiet rooms, entrance only allowed by the murmured phrase,  _“You are being deceived.”_

It wasn’t safe for the file to be anywhere on any kind of data network. If the authorities got wind of what was being discussed they would cry treason, and a thousand Enforcers would fall upon the city. Sometimes the Senate’s lack of care for Nyon was a blessing, and in this case they had a little more freedom of movement than likeminded mechs in other cities. And so the dissenters passed around datapads, coded to completely erase at the touch of a button, from one servo to another and the word spread.

It wasn’t long before the pad landed in Hot Rod’s servos. He devoured the treatise three times in one night, optics burning with impassioned vigour, and emerged the next day with a determination that blazed as bright as the flames on his chassis. He would see a better Cybertron.

In the proceeding vorns he followed the treatise writer with a dedication that boarded on obsession. Megatron of Tarn, though a lowly mine worker, had risen above his station, had dared to raise his head and look up to the sky and dream of a better future – and share that dream with others, in a move that spat in the face of the Functionists. Hot Rod hounded down rumours of Megatron’s punishment; imprisonment, release, sent to the mines of Messatine in a bid to silence him, and yet still the writings came. A small network formed, a handful of mechs passing any tidbit of information to Hot Rod’s waiting audials and a new writing to his enthusiastic servos. Sometimes mega-cycles would pass without a word, sometimes close to a vorn, and Hot Rod would almost lose hope… until another datapad found its way to him and renewed his spark.

He spent every breem of his free time either reading Megatron’s words, hunting down news of the miner, or organising with other dissenters. His little network grew and into it he funnelled most of his spare shanix. Within a vorn he was the unofficial leader of Nyon’s ragtag group of dissenters and within another no one even questioned his role. Information and news funnelled through him and he set about preparing his mechs for Megatron’s peaceful revolution.

And then Megatron vanished.

Hot Rod reeled, but recovered, staggering to his pedes to resume his leadership role. The only news they had – and news was sparce – was that Megatron had been arrested after a riot at the mine he worked in, but the transport shuttle had then crashed over Kaon. And every mech on board had disappeared. The meetings continued but without a figurehead to flock to there was little direction or cohesion. Mechs started to go missing, no longer turning up and leaving no news of their decision.

Until finally, mega-cycles later, Megatron reemerged – and he was fighting in the gladiatorial pits. It was a struggle to reconcile the mech who had so eloquently called for non-violent action with the huge beast who tore through his opponents like so much foil.

But soon enough Megatron was giving speeches after his victories, – and he always won – calling for the decimation of the senate. And Hot Rod could not stay away. He had to beg and beg for the time off shift, citing his little-before-used vacation allowance, and the journey to Kaon and entry to the arena cost him a large amount of his saved shanix.

It was all worth it to see the him in the metal.

Megatron was ferocious, and no one stood long before him. The massive figure stood proud in the centre of the arena, a greyed out frame discarded to one side and the bright pink of processed energon pooling at his pedes. Hot Rod had never quite seen so much abject violence, but when the gladiator spoke his shock faded to the back of his mind as Megatron’s voice filled his processor.

“My friends,” red optics swept the crowd and though he knew he was too far away to personally stand out, Hot Rod felt like they bore into his spark. The voice was gravely, but deep and rich. Enchanting. “You are being deceived by the liars and charlatans who presume to hold court over you.”

-o0o-

Hot Rod practically staggered away from the arena. His thoughts swirled in a tempest of confliction. He had been so invested in the nonviolent ideals of  _After the Ark_  but… Megatron’s call to arms tonight had stirred something inside him.

Walking mindlessly down the street, he didn’t notice the seekers until they landed around him.

Quickly he spun, counting. Only three – a trine? Seekers were unusual in Kaon, but not unheard of. Stupid of him to wander into a quiet area at night. They stood around him in a triangle and he could only get two at a time in his line of sight. Fragging fliers looking to mess with an earthbound mech…

“Hot Rod, I can only assume.”

The voice – oddly quiet and scratchy – came from the red seeker, and he turned to face the mech. It was hard to pick out details in the darkness but he could see shining plate and red optics. All seekers were high caste, regardless of whether they were forged or cold; too high military value to waste toiling in low paid manual roles, and these ones looked noble. He couldn’t help but notice the weaponry merged into their plating.

“What makes you think that?” he snapped back, still trying to crane to see the seeker behind him while keeping an optic on the other two. Irritated he flicked his headlights on and up to full brightness, only succeeding in spilling light across the red seeker and casting everything else into shadow.

The seeker smirked, annoyingly unfazed by the bright light and his optics trailed over Hot Rod’s bright paint. “Hardly easy to miss.”

His hoarse voice was strange, reminiscent of vocaliser damage, but what seeker couldn’t afford decent repairs? Hot Rod found himself half straining to catch the quiet words.

“What do you want?” he growled, turning sharply as he heard the seeker behind him move. He crouched slightly and clenched a fist, not liking his chances against three military mechs but he’d be damned to the Pit if he went down without a fight.

The red one – the trine leader? – took a step forward, now so close his EM field tingled against Hot Rod’s own and leaned up towards his audial. Finally Hot Rod saw the purple decals etched into his wings.

_“You are being deceived.”_

He almost didn’t hear the words, they were so softly spoken, and they sent his processor reeling again. Only muttered rumours had reached him about the claims that Megatron had managed to recruit a seeker trine to his cause but apparently they were true.

The intimate closeness was unsettling and he took a step back, only for a blip from his proximity sensors to warn him he was about to step into the seeker behind. All three were standing so close he could have reached out and touched any one of them. He shifted, looking over his shoulders at the two behind. One, purple and black, had a smirk similar to the leader’s playing across his dermas while the other – blue and grey – had his faceplates schooled into a smoothly impassive expression.

“What – do – you – want?” he ground out through gritted denta.

Blessedly the seeker moved out of his immediate personal space and the fuzz of EM fields meeting faded. He turned, wing almost scraping across Hot Rod’s plating and that slagging smirk flashed out again.

“There’s an Enforcer by the name of Orion Pax – he’s almost as much a fan of Megatron’s works as you are.”

Finally thought percolated down into Hot Rod’s logic centres and he started forward towards the chatty mech, catching himself only when he heard weapons arming behind him. He vented hard and forced control.

“How do you know that? How do you know who I am?” the seeker’s smirk was grating on his last circuit. “ _How did you know I came here?_ ”

An optic ridge quirked and the smirk became a grin. “The rumour mills run both ways.”

A flat piece of metal, about the size of his palm, was pressed into his servo. The whirr of anti-gravs sounded and suddenly the seekers weren’t quite touching the floor. The air stank with the burnt tang of unpowered thrusters ionising the molecules. The trine leader pushed up slightly and suddenly his optics were level with Hot Rod’s.

“The Decepticon cause could use you.” A tilt of the helm and the smile dropped. “Go to the Acropolex when you get home.”

He flinched back and covered his face as thrusters roared to life. The seekers shot into the sky like lightning in reverse and were gone.

Hot Rod cursed and stamped his pedes, kicking a wall in his frustration.

“You could just tell me straight up you know!” he yelled at the empty sky.

His fist clenched on metal and he looked down at his servo, fingers flexing around a purple insignia.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I am still taking prompts and looking for people to follow over on tumblr - I'm [Inkfamy](http://inkfamy.tumblr.com) there too!


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